


The Skeletons in Jim's Closet

by SpookyBones



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Academy Era, Alcohol, Blackmail, Cadet James T. Kirk, Humor, M/M, Masturbation, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Porn, Porn Watching, Professor Spock (Star Trek), Pseudonyms, Starfleet Academy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2019-11-18 20:15:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18125969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpookyBones/pseuds/SpookyBones
Summary: Before joining Starfleet, Jim had a short stint as a porn star under the pseudonym Julian Ryder. The only other soul in existence that knows this is Bones, or so he thought. One day, Jim receives an email from a grotesquely adoring "fan" with links to every film he's ever been in–a whopping five of them. The sender has a request; produce more material exclusively for them or the links will be leaked to anyone and everyone Jim is closest to. The clock is ticking, and Jim struggles to find someone he can turn to in his time of need. Uhura suggests her interspecies ethics instructor, Spock, but can a random Vulcan really help Jim out and ease his mind?The answer is yes. More than he could ever know.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey yo, I am a long time fan of Star Trek, both TOS and AOS, and I have been writing pieces here and there for quite some time now. However, I always kept them to myself because I always see these fics that are so phenomenally well-written and clever and meanwhile, I'm hanging out over here like that opossum on top of a trash can that's protecting its garbage lol. 
> 
> Anyways, this is something that I've been trying to refine and work on for a little while and it's my first ever post to AO3 or any platform that hosts fanfiction for that matter. I fully plan on making this a multi-chapter story and I will add tags as I see necessary or appropriate. I've already preumptively added some tags/characters that will become a part of the story in the near future. 
> 
> I will also apologize ahead of time for any small details or flaws that do not align perfectly with the AOS universe and its storyline/timeline. I've altered it a little to fit my own story and this would be taking place during the academy era prior to even the events of 2009 Star Trek. In this instance, Jim and Uhura met a tad bit earlier and became acquaintances and Jim and Bones share an apartment. Expect a lot of spirk and smut in the future and thank you for taking a gander. :)

"We have a problem…” Jim said, his voice low, as he quickly took the seat directly across from his friend and roommate, Dr.Leonard McCoy. He was frantic and restless in his movements. Jim couldn’t seem to go more than a few seconds without bouncing his knee up and down or continuously tapping his fingers against the clear, glass tabletop. To call him tense would be putting it lightly.

Leonard lifted his eyes from his PADD and looked back at Jim with a puzzled look on his face. He had known the other man long enough to pick up on his more nervous habits, and at the moment, Jim was the most anxious he had seen him in a long time. The only question was, why?

“What’s up? What’s wrong?” he asked as he set the PADD down on the small table in front of him and diverted all of his attention towards Jim. “Talk to me.”

Jim said nothing at first, and instead, reached down and produced his own PADD from a small side bag he carried around with him. His fingers glided across the screen for a few seconds before he slid the device over to Leonard, who picked it up and read what was displayed. It was an emailed dated for that day and sent just three hours prior at seven a.m. on the dot.

Leonard furrowed his brow in confusion. “What’s this?” he asked as he narrowed his eyes in on some rather unusual titles mixed with five separate links.

“Just read it.” Jim ordered quietly.

Leonard said nothing more and instead, silently read the message addressed to his friend.

_Hello James,_

_I would have never imagined you as the type to do porn, but needless to say, I was pleasantly surprised to discover your former alter ego as Julian Ryder. You are exquisitely beautiful and retired from the industry far too soon. Below, you will find direct links to all five of the films you starred in. I am particularly fond of the third one. As such, I would like to make a request for you to exit your retirement and produce more material for me and me alone. Please respond within 24 hours of receipt of this message so that we may work out the finer details. Just know that I will not be ignored, James. For each hour you are late with your reply, I will send all five links to one person you are acquainted with. It would be in your best interest to not delay. I look forward to hearing from you._

_Sincerely,_

_A Fan_

_https://www.moviehost.com/galleries/privategalleries/Julian_Ryder/Pool_Boys/DtlQ5871ky0_

_https://www.moviehost.com/galleries/privategalleries/Julian_Ryder/Wet_Dreams/Lgy7496vs3_

_https://www.moviehost.com/galleries/privategalleries/Julian_Ryder/Bareback_Boyfriends/Ajx4297ju6_

_https://www.moviehost.com/galleries/privategalleries/Julian_Ryder/Solo/Xbc9031kr8_

_https://www.moviehost.com/galleriee/privategalleries/Julian_Ryder/Lovely_Twinks/Pkh2846bj1_

As Leonard’s eyes scanned each line, his expression turned from initial bewilderment to shock and even anger towards the author of the letter. He was one of the very, very few souls in this world that knew of Jim’s previous “work” as minor porn star, Julian Ryder. He had never casted judgement towards the younger man for this. He understood the substantial amount of trust Jim had placed in him by confiding this fact in him at all. Even then, it was only after Jim had tossed back one too many drinks that he told him.

“What the hell? Someone is blackmailing you!” Leonard exclaimed loudly in disbelief.

Jim switfly placed his right index finger over his lips and hushed Leonard before glancing around for anyone nearby that could possibly overhear their conversation. “Pipe it down, will you? This isn’t exactly an issue I want making its way around campus.”

Leonard quickly apologized before handing Jim back his PADD and gathering up his own belongings. “Come on, let’s talk somewhere a little more private.” he said while standing up from the table.

With that, Leonard led Jim away from their table and towards a nearby building. It was yet another part of Starfleet Academy, and held a multitude of computers as well as individual study rooms and other resources available for cadet use. Once inside, he made quick work of locating an unoccupied study room and secluded both Jim and himself behind a closed door. After setting his things down, he took a seat and motioned for Jim to sit across from him just as they were earlier.

“Alright, tell me everything you know about this situation.”

Jim nodded, but remained quiet for a few short moments as he thought over his words. “Well, to tell you the truth, Bones, I don’t know a whole lot. I woke up this morning and you were already gone like usual. It was just after seven and I checked my email like I would on any other normal day. That’s when I saw it. The timestamp on it says that it was received right around when I woke up. I have no idea who this 'fan’ is and I also have no idea how they found out about…you know…Julian.”

"So this all happened after I got called into the hospital then. Alright, anything else?” Leonard asked.

Jim shrugged. “I tried to do a little digging, but all I could find was that the email was sent over a server hosted by Starfleet. It is a student server though.” “

"So this 'fan’ of yours is possibly another cadet?”

“Maybe? I’d be damned if I knew who though.”

Leonard hummed in thought as he sat back in his chair. At the same time, he picked up a spare pen and began tapping it against the desk.

“Has anyone around you been acting strange lately or have you noticed any cadets that seem a bit…off around you?”

Jim shook his head. “Not to my knowledge. That’s just it, Bones. I have zero, _zero_ clue who this is. I don’t know how they know me, I don’t know how they know my Starfleet email, or how they even got their hands on those videos! At this point, your guess would be as good as mine.”

Leonard glanced away for a few seconds. “This is going to sound stupid, but,” he continued. “Did you check those links? Are they even real?”

Jim rolled his eyes. “Yes, Bones, they’re real. Trust me. I think I’m capable of recognizing myself in a por–”

Jim shut his mouth when the sound of knocking suddenly filled the room. He turned his head towards the door and watched as it slid open with a soft _hiss_ to reveal cadet Nyota Uhura standing on the other side. She flashed both men a smile as she stepped into the room and made her way over to a spare chair.

“I thought I saw you through that little window,” she said while pointing towards the small window situated next to the door. “I figured I’d stop by and say hi.”

Uhura sat down. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

“Well–” Leonard began in response, but he was almost immediately cut off by Jim.

“We’re just talking is all, Nyota. It’s really nothing important. What’s up?”

Uhura flashed him a bit of an incredulous look. “I couldn’t help but overhear you two on my way over here. These walls are thinner than you think, James.”

“I’d rather be called Jim, Nyota. James is so…formal. I only ever hear it when people are pissed off at me anymore.” Jim corrected. It was a meager attempt to divert her from the subject.

“Uh huh,” Uhura replied. “Well, Jim, who’s Julian?”

In that moment, Jim became sheepish and found that he could no longer meet Uhura’s gaze. Instead, he settled for staring at the back of a computer monitor.

“It’s complicated, Nyota, and rather personal so…”

Uhura then folded her arms over the table and leaned in a little closer to Jim. “I’m willing to listen if you’re willing to talk.”

Jim looked back at her for a split second before shifting his eyes towards Leonard as if silently asking him if he should tell her.

“It’s your choice, Jim.” Leonard said simply.

Jim brought a hand up and raked his fingers through his hair as he mentally debated with himself over the matter. He knew Uhura wasn’t the type to gossip, but regardless, it was still difficult for him to talk about that period in his life even to Leonard while drunk off his ass. While Uhura wasn’t exactly his best friend, maybe her insight would help him in his current dilemma. She had already overheard enough of their conversation to know about the basics anyhow, so maybe…

Fuck it.

“Alright, fine,” Jim gave in. “To answer your question, I’m Julian.”

Uhura nodded. “Alright. Is that an alias or alter ego or something?”

Jim drew in a deep breath as he mentally prepared himself for his next words. “It’s a porn name.” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

Uhura’s eyebrows rose in surprise, but her face didn’t appear to hold any trace of judgement. “You used to do porn?” she asked quietly.

Jim sighed. He never failed to feel some level of shame every time he thought about it. “Yeah, I did, but please. Let me explain.”

Uhura remained silent and alloted her fellow cadet the room to speak.

“Back when I was eighteen,” Jim continued. “I went through a pretty rough patch in life. I wasn’t exactly seeing eye-to-eye with my step-dad and hadn’t been for a long time. My mom didn’t help matters either. We argued more often than not and me being me, I up and left. I didn’t have anything going for me at the time and I couldn’t go home so I was essentially a drifter for a little while.”

Jim paused to swallow a lump that was growing in his throat. “I uh…I ended up meeting this guy in a bar and we started talking. He ordered me drinks, and I agreed to be in a few videos for him. I um…I really don’t have a good reason for it or any way to justify it. Um…a man’s got to eat, you know?” he let out a short, defensive laugh. “So I…did that under the name Julian Ryder because, obviously, I’m not going to use my real name for something like that. I had done five 'films’, or whatever you want to call them, then I found the sign ups for Starfleet and joined.”

Uhura didn’t offer much of a reaction at first, but thankfully, her expression didn’t reflect any form of disgust over Jim’s confession. It was quite the opposite, actually. Her dark brown eyes held nothing but sympathy for her friend.

“I can certainly understand why you’d be reluctant to tell anyone about that, but thank you for telling me,” she said with a reassuring smile spread wide across her face. She reached out and placed a comforting hand on Jim’s shoulder.

"If you ask me, I think whoever produced those…'films’ was taking advantage of you while you were in a vulnerable position and you shouldn’t feel ashamed for doing what you had to do to get by.”

“As far as I’m concerned,” Leornard chimed in. “that dirty producer can rot in hell for taking advantage of someone that was in Jim’s position. He was barely eighteen for god’s sake!”

“Bones, please,” Jim said while reaching out to quiet him. He then turned his head towards Uhura. “and thank you, Nyota, for understanding.”

“So, what’s going on now in regards to all that?” Uhura asked.

Jim spent the next few minutes repeating everything he and Leonard had been discussing prior to Uhura’s arrival. He explained everything he knew surrounding the email, how it came from a Starfleet-hosted student server, and that they were drawing nothing but blanks when it came to the mystery identity of the sender. To aid in this, he brought out his PADD and showed her the message.

“Here,” He said while handing it over. “Try not to open those links.”

“Can do.” Uhura replied as she took the PADD into her hands and read over the email.

Her reaction to its contents was similar to Leonard’s, and by the time she was done, she looked to be just as appalled as he was when he first read it.

“Oh my god, this is horrible. Someone is blackmailing you with your old…” she lowered her voice before saying her next word. “porn and is essentially trying to extort you for more. Who would do this to you?”

"Like I told Bones,” Jim said while bringing his hands up in frustration. “Your guess would be as good as mine. I already did everything I know of to trace its origins and it didn’t bring me very far.”

Uhura racked her brain for anything that could possibly help Jim out. She wasn’t capable of doing much beyond what Jim could when it came to technology, but she knew of someone who did.

“Hey, this is a bit of a stretch, and I know it’s going to sound weird, but I’m just throwing this out there. I think my interspecies ethics instructor might be able to help you.”

Jim looked at her dubiously. “An interspecies ethics instructor can help me track down the guy that’s blackmailing me with my old porn?”

“I think so. Aside from ethics, he knows his way around a computer and networking systems better than anyone else I’ve ever seen. I totally understand that it sounds weird, but trust me. I think he can help you.” Uhura explained in her defense.

Jim wasn’t exactly too keen on telling a stranger his problems, but he bit.

“What’s his name?”

“Spock.”

~~~

Later that evening, Jim found himself at a bar tossing back straight shots of whiskey like it was water. The dark liquor burned as it traveled all the way down his throat and settled into his stomach. He had spent more nights in his life like this than he cared to admit to, and it usually did more harm than good, but he didn’t care. Not tonight.

Given that it was the weekend, the bar was bustling with activity and pumping with music that was hardly audible over the great multitude of patrons talking and mingling with one another. Jim glanced over his shoulder to see a variety of beings that ranged from human to Orion to a few Andorians and even a singular Vulcan that didn’t seem to be too pleased about being surrounded by a bunch of drunk humans that no longer understood the concept of boundaries. Poor guy must have been dragged out by one.

Speaking of Vulcans, Jim had already decided much earlier in the day that he wasn’t going to seek help from Uhura’s interspecies ethics instructor. Oh, yeah. What was he going to do? Just walk up to Spock, a random Vulcan he’s never even met, and say “Hey stranger, someone is blackmailing me with porn that I’m in. Can you help me find out who?” Thanks Uhura, but no thanks. There had to be a way to figure this out and resolve it without needlessly involving anyone else.

Jim was beginning to feel the onset of that fimilar buzz in his head accompanied by the the overall warmth he felt his body. Finally, the liquor was starting to work. Had this been any other night, he would be out there trying to find a pretty Orion girl or some towering, shit brickhouse of a man he could get his rocks off with, but sex was one of the last things on his mind right now.

Jim narrowed his gaze in on the lone shot of whiskey that sat in front of him in its miniature glass and scrunched his nose up at it before picking it up and drinking it down in one gulp. When he had joined Starfleet, he left Julian Ryder and that chapter of his life behind himself. The two were synonymous with one another. No longer was he a dangerously young, pretty face that had to spread his legs in front of a camera to get the most basic of necessities in life. He had Starfleet, and despite himself, he was determined to become more than just some reckless kid from Iowa. The rank of Captain, in particular, had a nice ring to it.

Lord, how could he have been so stupid back then? He should have just gone back home and tried to work things out with his mother and step-father, but no. What did he do? Get mixed up with some sleazy porn producer that made him feel filthy no matter how many showers he took after his scenes. The sex he had in those films wasn’t even enjoyable, and now, some unidentifiable Starfleet cadet had gotten their hands on them and wanted more of him–of Julian Ryder.

Jim glanced over at the clock. It was just a few minutes shy of eight-thirty. The night was young yet, and he still had ten and a half hours to respond to his “fan”. Doing so would buy him at least another day and avoid the offensively-adoring fan’s threatened consequences, but this was still a time-sensitive matter. What was he going to do at this same time tomorrow? What would his options be if he hasn’t figured all this out by then?

Rather than dwell on those questions and their possible outcomes, Jim ordered another round of shots and continued to force each one down his throat until he was mentally, and maybe somewhat physically, numb from intoxication. Perhaps the more he drank, the less he would think about that dreadful email and his former life as Julian Ryder, and that was exactly what he wanted.

He had hardly noticed when a random man had walked up to him from the other side of the bar and began chatting him up. At this point, his vision was blurring around the edges and his head felt like it was slowly unscrewing itself from the rest of his body. He didn’t quite know how he ended up with an old-fashioned in his hand, but he wasn’t too worried about it. More booze, less thinking. As far as he was concerned, the more detached he became from his current emotions and reality, the better.

He was barely coherent enough to follow along with what this man was saying to him until a word came out of his mouth that nearly sobered him up on the spot.

“Julian…”

The name was whispered into his ear and the sensation of it sent an incredibly unpleasant chill down his spine.

Jim whipped his head around and began looking frantically over the sea faces to find the man that had said it, but whoever it was, had already disappeared into the crowd.

Jim then tried to hastily, but steadily, push himself up from the bar onto knees that were already wobbly from both the alcohol and the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. A sudden sense of panic overcame him and all he could think about was getting out of that bar as quickly as he could. Frankly, he didn’t care where he went from there so long as he wasn’t here anymore.

With his eyes fixed on the exit at the other side of the building, Jim made his way through the crowd. He could have cared less if he had to shove a few people along the way in order to get there. He wanted out and he wanted out now. Each person that he felt brush up against him or touch him as he wedged himself between body after body only added to the digusted feeling he felt within himself. Finally, he reached the front door and stumbled out into the cool, open air of the night.

He hadn’t told anyone he was going out tonight, not even Leonard, and he lived with him. The last thing he wanted was to be around people that would ultimately ask him more about the email situation. He didn’t doubt that the doctor had already noticed his absense, and he was sure to be on the receiving end of a tongue-lashing once they were face-to-face again, but as with everything else in this moment, he didn’t care. All he wanted was to be left alone to drown his sorrows and temporarily supress his own existence for a while. Morning was a bridge he would cross when he got to it. For now, his only goal was to find a spot to seclude himself in until he was stable enough to find his way back to his shared apartment.

Jim’s pace was staggered as he walked down the near-empty stretch of road. As the minutes passed by, he felt himself becoming more and more disoriented. The lights from the street lamps above him were nothing but blurred orbs that teetered back and forth in his vision and swirled around him. His ears picked up every sound that was made, but he didn’t recognize any of them. His muscles were gradually becoming weaker with each unsteady step he stook, and before he could fully realize it, he had sunk to his knees and didn’t have the strength to get back up.

Jim fought against the the intense drowsiness that was threatening to overtake him, but it was a losing battle. The last thing he saw before his consciousness slipped away from him was the silhouette of a tall, lean figure hovering over him. The last sensible thought that rang through his mind was that he hoped it wasn’t the man that had called him Julian.

~~~

Spock had just finished familiarizing himself with a long series of texts related to the new material for his interspecies ethics course. He was currently in one of Starfleet’s expansive research centers when he glanced over to a nearby clock to check the time. It was getting to be rather late, and he knew that it was best for him to return to his dwelling for the night. It might have been a traditional rest day for humans, but as a Vulcan, he saw no logical reason to discontinue his duties. When he finally stepped outside, the first sight that greeted him was that of a darkened figured slumped over in the distance.

Cautiously, he approached it only to discover that it was the unconscious body of an, admittedly attractive, young man. He appeared to be human and in his early to mid twenties, but aside from what was visually assessable, everything else was a mystery. Spock leaned down to observe the man’s chest as it rose up and down slowly with each respiration. Good. At least he was breathing.

Spock called out to him. “Excuse me, sir?”

There was no response.

“Sir?” he tried again.

Nothing.

The next logical step was to contact the emergency medical services, which Spock did by bringing out his communicator and calling for a med team to come and transport this unknown man to the nearest hospital. Had Spock been fully human, he would have reached out to the man and attempted to shake him awake, but given his half-Vulcan heritage, he avoided touching others when he could and preferred to hold physical boundaries to a high regard. While he awaited the med team’s arrival, he stood by and continued to visually monitor the man to the best of his ability.

He was laying on his left side with his legs bent at the hip and knees. His casual attire consisted of a well-worn pair of blue jeans, a black, form-fitting t-shirt and shoes of the same color. His head was tilted back towards the ground and the street lamp above him illuminated his captivating features. Spock could see that his cheeks were flushed with a red color that was the result of the iron-based blood in humans showing through dilated capillaries just under the skin. It almost appeared as though he was blushing. For what reason, though, he did not know.

Spock turned to see a bar approximately twenty meters away, and estimated with high probability that this man had come from there. Excessive alcohol consumption could offer an explanation for both his current comatose state as well as the darkened color in his face. Spock silently noted that it was, however, somewhat strange that unconsciousness had befallen the man while he was in the middle of a road. In his former, brief encounters with intoxicated humans, they were almost always positioned more or less off to the side.

The longer Spock gazed down upon the man’s face, the more intrusive thoughts began to enter his mind. It was a by-product of his half-human hertiage that he tried so adamantly to supress with Vulcan techniques. Currently, he couldn’t help but take notice of how handsome the man on the ground was despite his current condition. He had well-pronounced cheekbones that sat high on his face, a shapely, masculine jawline, and a nose and lips that perfectly complimented his other attractive qualities. The man was physically fit, and for reasons beyond Spock’s knowledge, he felt a strange sense of familiarity towards him.

This feeling, coupled with the other ones he was presently experiencing, were completely and utterly illogical. He had never previously met this man, and even now, this wasn’t exactly a formal introduction. He was a stranger to him, and a beautiful one at that, but still a stranger. He likened these feelings to be the result of mere attraction. At the same time, however, it felt as though there was some unknown entity lingering in the back of his mind and lightly suggesting to him that there was more to it than that. It was absurd, but Spock felt this invisible pull towards him, and although they had never crossed paths before, it also felt as though they had known each other already. It was like there was this faint connection between their two existences, perhaps not quite in this time or reality, but a closely related one. It was a feeling Spock had no name for in the standard language or Vulcan. Above all else, it simply felt...right to be in this man's presence.

Spock leaned down once more to look at the man more closely. He pondered over why he was so inexplicably drawn to him. As such, he also wondered who he was and what circumstances had led him to his current position. There was a very high chance that alcohol was involved in bringing this man to his present location, and copious amounts of it, but why was he drinking as heavily as he was, if he was even drinking at all? Spock knew humans partook in the consumption of alcohol recreationally, but he also knew that it was sometimes utilized as a (poor) tool for coping with negative emotions. What was troubling this man? The more Spock analyzed him, the more he picked up on the subtle signs of tension in his body. He may have been asleep, but he wasn’t at rest.

Spock was drawn from his thoughts by the arrival of the med team. An emergency medical technician approached him to inquire about how he had found the man while two others got to work on checking his vital signs. Once they confirmed that he was, as far as they could tell, stable, they began carefully searching around his person for some form of identification. They soon retrieved a photo identification card and recorded his information into a portable documenting system while the rest of his body was being loaded up into a transport vehicle.

Spock was able to catch the man’s name and a small bit of basic information before turning around and taking his leave from the scene.

He was James Tiberius Kirk; a twenty-two year-old Starfleet cadet.

~~~

When Jim had finally come to, he found himself in an unfamiliar setting. The bed he laid in didn’t feel like his own. The sheets were far too thin and the matress was far too firm to belong to the one back in his apartment. His joints and muscles ached like he had suddenly aged twenty years, and while he didn’t know how long he was out for, he felt like he had been given the mother of all sleeping pills. His mind was clouded and foggy, and he could hardly recall what he was doing last night through the aching pound in his head.

Slowly, Jim blinked his eyes open. The bright lights of the room assaulted them and forced him to shut them again tightly. He turned over in the bed and carefully opened his eyes once more to see a screen with an anterior and posterior image of a human body displayed in the anatomical position alongside some text. Vaguely, he recognized it as a part of hospital rooms. He then glanced over to the corner of the screen to see what time it was.

It was eight thirty-seven in the morning.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those who left comments on my last posting and beared with me while I was writing out this one. I will, of course, be working on more. I can't help but feel that this is a slightly awkward chapter, but I tried to move the story along as best I could while also not taking ages to crank it out. I hope the quality of my story did not suffer because of this, but I apologize if any of you feel that it did. I promise, I will work diligently on the next one. Also, the chapter amount I listed is pretty much just a place holder until I work out the finer details. Just a heads up to anyone reading that there is a brief mention of date rape in this chapter, but it did not actually occur (because you know, Spock to the rescue), so if that could potenially bother someone, then take caution while reading this. Anyways, thank you again and I hope you all enjoy this. :)

Shit.

_Shit, shit, shit._

The sudden realization that he hadn’t replied to that god-awful email hit Jim like a ton of bricks and left his stomach twisting up in knots from the rapidly increasing panic he felt because of it. His response was already over an hour past due, and if his “fan” was serious with their threats, then the videos must have been sent to at least one person he was connected with.

A more optimistic part of Jim’s mind hoped and prayed to whatever omniscient entity out there that it was all a bluff and he wouldn’t actually face any consequences from not acknowledging this ridiculous “fan” of his. A more realistic part of him, however, already knew that he probably wasn’t going to be so lucky.

Jim tried to quickly push himself up into a sitting position, but his actions were almost immediately halted by a firm hand on his shoulder.

“Woah there, Jim. Take it easy.”

He recognized the voice as belonging to Leonard, and a quick glance upwards revealed that it was, in fact, him. He wasn’t sure how long the other man had been there, but the darkened troughs under his eyes were more prominent than usual. Regardless, the last thing he needed was to be on the receiving end of a lecture from his overprotective doctor of a roommate.

Jim reached up then tightly grasped Leonard’s wrist and moved it away from himself. “Bones, stop! You don’t understand!”

Leonard relaxed his arm, but made no move to give Jim complete free reign on his movement. “Oh, I understand plenty. You and I have a lot to talk about. What in god’s name–”

“Bones!” Jim shouted out, cutting him off. “That doesn’t matter right now! I need my PADD now! Where is it?”

“It’s in your bag, why?” Leonard asked as he then slowly turned and walked a short distance over to a cabinet where patient belongings were commonly kept. His typical patient safety protocol normally wouldn’t have allowed him to stray from a patient that was attempting to stand when they had experienced a fall in recent time, but this was Jim, not some precarious, elderly patient that could fracture a hip if they so much as thought about walking unassisted. Leonard reached in, pulled a small bag out, and retrieved the device Jim wanted so desparately. “Oh lord, Jim, don’t tell me you forgot to send an email back to the guy that’s blackmailing you.” he said as he turned back to face him.

“Just hand it over.” Jim demanded while holding out his hand.

Leonard returned the PADD to Jim, who then snatched it up and scrambled to open his email with fingers that were tembling from anxiety. _Please no_ ran through his mind over and over again on a loop until his email finally loaded, and the first thing his eyes landed on was a brand new message from Christohper Pike.

“Fuck, no! No, no, no…” Jim cursed as he tapped it open and began reading the short message with an impending sense of dread welling up in the pit of his stomach. Each word he took in only added to the growing sense of nausea he felt as his worst-case scenario was realized.

_James,_

_This morning, I received five links to five separate videos of pornographic nature from an anonymous sender. These videos have you in them. I understand that you are currently under observation at Starfleet Medical Center, however, I will be stopping by to visit you. We have some things to discuss._

_-Christopher Pike, Executive Officer of Recruitment_

Leonard stood by and watched as Jim’s expression morphed from worry to fear to absolute mortification. Jim closed the display on his PADD then buried in his shamed-covered face in the stark white hospital blanket and yelled out some muffled obscenities into it. It was then that Leonard decided to carefully approach the other man and offer what level of comfort he could for his distress.

“Hey, hey, Jim. It’s alright,” he said with his voice level and calm. The doctor gently took a seat next to his friend and placed a single, comforting hand on his back over his shoulder blade. “This isn’t the end of the world. One way or another, we’re going to find out who this is, trust me. Who did that ‘fan’ send the videos to anyhow?”

“Pike.” Jim answered with his head still buried in the sheets. He picked it up a few inches. “They were sent to Pike.” he said, this time more clearly. Although, his tone was drenched with agitation.

Leonard began lightly rubbing Jim’s shoulder. “Oh, good lord…I’m sorry, Jim,” he replied. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think Pike is the type to overreact about something like that, especially when it concerns you. I know he’ll definitely want to talk, but hell. Who knows? Maybe he can actually help you out in this case.”

Jim let out a heavy, frustrated sigh. “I get that, Bones, but it still doesn’t change the fact that Pike saw me in ways I would have never wanted him to see me. I doubt he’d yell at me over this, but how am I going to explain all this to him? I don’t just mean the blackmailing situation, but the fact that I did porn, and not just once–five times over. Oh god, I don’t think I can look him in the eye after this…”

Jim, once again, cocealed his face with the blanket and Leonard continued to console him to the best of his ability. Being a good friend to someone like Jim, however, also meant that he tried to keep his best interest in mind and at heart. “Well, a gander at that clock over there says that we’re just about to hit nine o’ clock, and if my memory serves me right, you need to reply to that guy before he send those links off to someone else. I know it’s probably the last thing you want to look at, but you need to buy yourself some time.”

Jim swore again, then straightened out his back, and re-opened the email display on his PADD. While he saw no new message from his horrendous “fan”, he pressed the reply tab on the old one. His fingers tapped away at the screen as he typed out an incredibly brief response.

_Dear Fan,_

_Let's talk._

_-James_

Jim turned to set the PADD down on his bedside table next to a small pitcher of water then returned to his former position and allowed his eyes to fall shut. He sought to ease the nervousness in his mind by practicing a small number of breathing techniques. Slowly, steadily, he brought in a very controlled, deep breath then exhaled with the same level of care. He repeated this process over and over again alongside a few other variations until he had relaxed enough to ask Leonard for something. “Hey, Bones?” He called out, breaking the silence that had filled the room.

“Yes, Jim? What do you need?”

“I already know I’m going to regret asking for this, but I think I’m having a lot of regrets right about now. Can you give me something for pain? My head is splitting.”

Leonard snorted out a short laugh. “Of course,” he pushed himself up from the firm, hospital-issued bed. “A headache is about the least I would expect after the night you’ve had. Any other symptoms? More specifically, are you experiencing any form of memory loss? Does your body feel achy or just generally under the weather?”

Jim shrugged. “I’ve definitely had better days. My body aches, for sure.”

Leonard nodded. “Okay, one more question. What happened last night?”

Jim looked somewhat confused by the question, but found that the more he thought about it, the more perplexed he became, and his face certainly reflected it. “I went out to a bar and…” he began, but soon trailed off.

"And?” Leonard asked.

Jim blinked a few times as another realization hit him just as hard as the first one. He didn’t remember a damned thing about last night…at all. The only part of his night that he could actively recall was going out to a bar and ordering shots of whiskey, but anything that occurred afterwards was an ill-defined blur. “I…I don’t know.”

Lenoard walked over to a comm system built into the far wall and rested his hand against the call button. “Well, I do, and this confirms at least some degree of memory loss. Give me just one moment, Jim.”

Lenoard pressed the button. “Nurse, please drop off one of the hypos I ordered for James Kirk’s pain. Thank you.” He then lifted his finger off the botton and directed all of his attention back to Jim, who paled a little at the thought of receiving a hypo.

“Aside from a high blood-alcohol content, your toxicology report from last night lists two different drugs that are commonly found in victims of date rape.” Leonard explained.

As if Jim didn’t already have enough on plate…

“But,” Leonard continued. “before you freak out, just know that there is virtually no evidence that you were assaulted, especially since you were transported here shortly after losing consciousness, all thanks to Spock.”

That name rung a bell in Jim’s head. “Spock?”

Leonard crossed his arms. “Nyota’s interspecies ethics instructor? She mentioned him yesterday.”

Well, at least that was one thing Jim could actually recollect. It was a strange coincidence that out of all the people that could have stumbled upon him in his compromised state, it was the Starfleet instructor Uhura had mentioned just earlier that day. Maybe it was some sort of sign that he should go through with seeking out Spock’s help, but regardless, he definitely owed the man a thank you for saving him from such a potentially abhorrent thing. Jim had experienced a lot of things in his relatively young life, but someone drugging him was definitely a first. If Spock hadn’t found him when he did…

Well, he didn’t want to dwell on that.

The door to Jim’s hospital room slid open and drew his attention towards a nurse, who held a small, steel-colored tray with a hypo placed neatly on top. “Dr.McCoy,” she addressed as she handed the instrument over. She then turned to Jim. “Mr.Kirk, you have a visitor. Should I send him in?”

“Who is it?” Jim asked. He sincerely hoped to the high heavens that it wasn’t Pike.

“It’s a Vulcan, sir. He said his name was Spock.” The nurse answered.

Leonard grinned the moment he heard that name come out of her mouth. “Well, speak of the devil. Send the man in.”

The nurse looked at Jim for confirmation and he gave it with a short nod. With that, the nurse exited, and before Jim had another seceond to think, Leonard was right beside him ready to administer the hypo. “You know the drill,” he said as he aligned it with the base of Jim’s neck. “Three, two, one.” The swift burst of air delivered the medication and caused Jim to wince from the sting of it, but its pain-relieving effects soon began kicking in. Within moments, his headache began subsiding alongside a few other aches and pains he felt in his body.

The door slid open once more to grant entry to Spock, who then promptly walked up to Jim’s bedside and looked down at him with his hands folded neatly behind himself. He was dressed impeccably in a grey, Starfleet-issued uniform that fit snugly against his tall, well-proportioned frame. Jim had never seen Spock before, but he suddenly found himself feeling rather self-conscious about his own appearance. Spock was remarkably handsome and his grooming was immaculate. Jim hadn’t even gotten a chance to give himself a good once-over in a mirror since he woke up, and he was almost certain he looked like hell with the night he had.

“Hello, James,” Spock greeted. “It appears that you are doing considerably better than the previous night.”

Jim flashed him a small, slightly bashful smile while pulling the covers over himself a bit more. “Oh, yeah, I guess so,” he replied. “and please, call me Jim, Spock. Thank you for what you did for me last night.”

“Contacting the emergency medical services for your person was the only logical course of action for me to take when I discovered you in your unconscious state last night,” Spock replied. “As such, thanks are illogical.”

“I think he’s saying you’re welcome.” Leonard added with the corners of his lips still curled upwards. He lifted his eyes to look at Spock. “I’m Dr.McCoy, by the way. I took care of Jim last night.”

Spock offered the doctor a nod of acknowledgement. “I trust you provided your patient with adequate care.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t hold any less of a standard for dear ol’ Jim here,” Leonard replied. “Thank you, again, for having him brought here. Kid’s been having a rough time lately, but he’s in good hands.”

The intercomm then sounded in the room, and summoned Leonard away to, undoubtedly, see a new patient.

_Dr.McCoy to the emergency room triage please. Dr.McCoy to the emergency room triage._

Jim tilted his off to the side. “You’re doing ER today?”

Leonard nodded. “Yeah, well, it is Sunday after all, and that usually means we’re short so I picked up ER. I just hope that this new patient is alert, oriented, and continent. That last one was…” Leonard shuddered at the memory. “a doozy.”

“Was it the man that claimed to be Thor, drank hand sanitizer, and climbed on the roof?” Jim asked.

At this, a single brow rose on Spock’s head, but ultimately, he made no comment.

Leonard laughed and shook his head as he walked over towards the door. “No, but he was a pain in the ass too. Anyways, I got to go,” he pointed at Jim. “You behave yourself.”

With that, Leonard exited the room, leaving both Jim and Spock behind to speak amongst themselves. There was a brief air of silence between them as Jim searched his mind for something to break it with. With Leonard gone, the self-consciousness he felt within himself only heightened. Having Spock’s intense, dark-brown gaze upon him somehow felt…heavy? It wasn’t in a manner that was scrutinizing by any means; it actually caused a faint blush to creep up onto his cheeks as it reminded him of the fervent look he would receive from people that were flirting with him. He was perfectly aware that Spock wasn’t presently flirting with him, but some part of his unusual brain still wanted to interpret it as such. Strange.

“So um…how did you find me?” Jim finally asked.

“I found you lying on the ground when I exited one of Starfleet’s research facilities at 2200 hours. I attempted to wake you by calling out to you, but you were unresponsive to sound.” Spock stated simply.

Jim nodded slowly. “You didn’t happen to see me at any point beforehand, did you?”

“No. Why?” Spock asked.

“I’m just trying to figure some stuff out,” Jim replied with a small shrug. “I honestly don’t remember what happened last night. I know I went out to a bar, but there’s a series of events that are lost to me.”

“Did something negative occur?” Spock inquired. He wasn’t sure if he was pressing too much by asking this.

“Yes and no,” Jim said. “I um…I was drugged while I was at a bar and I don’t know who did it, but you found me before they did, so as illogical as it is to say this again, thank you. You did a lot for me and you don't even know me, but I really appreciate it.” He turned his head towards Spock and smiled at him with genuine gratitude shining through his deep, blue eyes.

Jim’s words didn’t sit well with Spock, and not only from the stance that non-consensual drug use was a serious transgression against another’s free-will and rights as a sentient, intelligent being. The same unusual and inexplicable feelings he experienced the night before when he originally found Jim were still there, but he was now experiencing this new surge of protectiveness towards the human before him. While Spock had never had a formal bomdmate, he was familiar with a fair number of cases regarding how his kind harbored a persistent and viligant concern for their partner’s well-being that easily heightened to the point of aggression when posed with some form of danger or threat. To put it simply, Vulcans were territorial with their mates, and it took a great deal of meditation and other supression techniques so that they wouldn’t allow this deep-seated instinct to consume them in times of stress. The only thing was, Jim, obviously, wasn’t Spock’s bondmate. They were barely acquainted with one another, which begged the question as to why Spock was feeling so strongly towards him.

Thankfully, a young lifetime spent following the teachings of Surak meant that Spock was, at the very least, capable of preserving a near-unreadable and collected exterior. “An unknown person administered substances to you without your knowledge or consent?”

Jim avoided eye-contact as he nodded his head in confirmation. “Yeah, they did and my memory is shot because of it, but thankfully, there’s a really low chance that anyone actually…well, you know…took advantage of me while I couldn’t say no.”

Spock knew the purposes of maliciously putting someone under the influence of drugs that lowered their inhibitions or rendered the affected individual unconscious, and the knowledge that someone attempted to do such a deplorable thing to Jim only fueled the, admittedly absurd, protective feeling he held for him. Try as he might, however, he wasn’t able to entirely supress it.

To apologize for actions that were not your own, as humans frequently did, was illogical to Spock, so he took a different route. “Are you going to pursue an investigation in an attempt to find this individual?” he asked.

Jim sighed deeply. “I don’t know…” his tone was notably more dejected. “I just…have something else going on right now and it’s more urgent than trying to find the guy that drugged me.”

Spock inclined his head ever so slightly. “May I ask what?”

“I…” Jim shifted uncomfortably where he sat. “It’s…personal. There’s this thing going on with this email that someone sent me and I don’t know who it is and they’re threatening to send these videos of me from back when I was a–” Jim quickly stopped himself before he could say anything further. He couldn’t explain why, but for a very brief moment, he experienced a temporary lapse in his own judgement, and opened up a little more to Spock than he originally planned to.

“Uh…yeah. I uh…it’s not important.” Jim finished, although it was a poor end to his short explanation.

Before Spock could request further information, the nurse from earlier re-entered the room and stopped just before the bed. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but Mr.Kirk, you have a Christopher Pike wishing to see you.”

Jim drew a deep breath of air into his lungs in an attempt to contain and soothe the sheer dread he felt with facing Pike knowing full-well that he saw _those_ videos and–oh god–wanted to talk about them. Jim was sure that if he didn’t die of embarrassment during their little _talk_ , that his face would be permanently stained red after the fact.

“Send him in.” he said, unable to hide his reluctantance.

The nurse did just that, and seconds later, Pike made his appearance by sauntering into the room and up to where Jim laid in his bed.

_Here we go…_

“Hey, kid,” Pike greeted. “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve been better and worse, I suppose.” Jim replied.

Pike looked up towards Spock. “I didn’t know you and Spock knew each other.”

“We just met, actually,” Jim corrected. “He was the one that found me last night.”

“Oh, alright. Well, Spock, you have my thanks for rescuing Jim. However, I do need to speak with him, so a moment, if you will.” Pike requested.

Spock obliged, and turned to leave the room, but with each step he took away from Jim, he couldn’t help but feel that it was somehow…wrong to leave his side. It was yet another peculiar feeling he had no rhyme or reason for. Nevertheless, he patiently stood out in the hallway right next to the room until he was given permission to go back inside.

Pike rested some of his weight against the sturdy, hospital bed and looked at Jim with nothing but concern written all over his face. “Did you read the email I sent you this morning?”

“Yes.” Jim said, his mouth suddenly feeling dry.

“I’m not really sure where to start, but…why was I sent those videos?”

It was difficult for Jim to push back against his own embarrassment enough to offer his superior an even semi-good explanation, but he didn’t really have a choice in the matter. “You being sent those videos is a punishment to me from this…person that is blackmailing me with those videos.”

Pike knitted his brows together as he thought over Jim’s words. “How did you find this out?”

“They sent me an email.” Jim said simply.

“When?”

“Yesterday at seven in the morning.”

“What did it say?”

“Look, Pike, I don’t really feel like repeating myself so much. I’ve already talked to Bones and one other person about this. Can I just forward you the email? You already have access to what I didn’t want this guy to send anyways, so you might as well just read it for yourself.” The tension in Jim’s voice was evident.

Pike nodded slowly. “Jim, I’m fully aware that this is a rather…delicate situation for you, but…god, I worry about you, kid. You had a rough start in life and you have so much potential in Starfleet. You’re excelling further than I did when I was a cadet and I have no doubt in my mind that you’ll be a commander some day, but you have to be careful. When did you even do…” he trailed off, not wanting to say the word “porn”.

“Porn?” Jim finished the sentence.

“Yeah.”

“It…wasn’t that long before I joined Starfleet. I had already left home at that point and I didn’t really have any other way to provide for myself at the time. I’m not proud of myself for being a minor porn star at one point in my life, but…I guess it is what it is. You have to understand that this _really_ isn’t a comfortable subject for me to talk about.”

Pike reached out and rested his hand on top of Jim’s shoulder. “I know, Jim, and I’m sorry. I'm just trying to figure all this out. Were you even old enough to be…doing what you were doing in those videos?”

Jim rolled his eyes. “I was eighteen at the time so…yes.”

Pike glanced away for a brief moment. “By the looks of it, barely, but I guess it’s not all that important. Look, I just care about you is all and I want you to be able to achieve your goals with Starfleet. You can't be going out there doing things that will mix you up with more trouble than you've already gotten yourself into. Someone fully planned on taking advantage of you last night, and if it weren’t for Spock, you’d have a lot more on your plate than just a blackmailer.”

Jim was beginning to become slightly irritated. “I get that, Pike, but finding and stopping the guy that’s blackmailing me is more important to me right now. I don’t suppose you know how to trace emails, would you?”

“Personally?” Pike replied. “I don’t exactly have advanced knowledge when it comes to technology, but I’m sure I can find someone who does,” he sighed then took a step back from the bed. “Look, I have to get going soon, but I’ll look into this, alright? I won’t ask anyone for help without consulting with you first, I promise. Anyways, I’ll talk to you later, Jim. Take care of yourself and for the love of everything that is good in this world, _please_  err on the side of caution when you go out.”

The entirety of the time Pike and Jim were conversing, Spock was more than capable of hearing a good portion of the exchanges between them. The walls of Starfleet Medical Center were much too thin for Vulcan ears anyhow, especially near doorways that possessed miniscule gaps where sound could escape. He was surprised to learn of Jim’s former…profession as a pornographic actor. Somehow, the thought of Jim engaging in intercourse with anyone aside from himself sent a pang of jealously through his body, which was most certainly something he would have to meditate extensively over at a later time, but there were more important matters at hand.

When Pike left the room, he turned to Spock. “He’s all yours.”

Spock re-entered the room to see that Jim had become more stressed than just a few minutes prior when he had originally left. He was displaying the tension in his body by squeezing and manipulating a small portion of his blanket with both hands while glancing off towards a far window with a generally displeased look on his face.

“Jim?” Spock called out. He kept himself at a further distance from the bed this time to allot the other man a comfortable amount of space.

Jim’s expression visibly softened when his eyes fell upon Spock. “Hey,” he said. “I’m sorry you were kept waiting.”

“You have posed no inconvenience to me.” Spock replied.

“Not even last night?” Jim asked.

Spock shook his head. “No, I would not have wished ill-fate upon you. It appears that others do, however.”

Jim reinforced his grip on the blanket. “It’s just something I have to deal with myself, I guess.”

Spock stepped closer. “If I may, I would like to state that my proficiency where technology is concerned is quite adept. If you require assistance with such, you may request it whenever you wish.”

Jim narrowed his eyes at Spock in suspicion. “Did you overhear what Pike and I talked about?” he asked warily.

While Vulcans could not lie, Spock knew he had to choose his next words very, very carefully as to not upset the human in front of him. “Vulcans possess advanced hearing capabilities beyond that of a human’s. I was not intentionally attempting to listen to your discussion, as I understand this action can be interpreted negatively, however, I was still capable of hearing what was said.”

Jim, in turn, looked utterly abashed by this, and about a hundred different methods of escaping his current situation were actively flashing through his mind. His cheeks were deeply flushed with embarrassment and he averted his eyes from Spock’s as he tried physically and emotionally retract into himself. While his efforts were in vain, he turned over in the bed and pulled his blanket up even higher over his body. Just over a day ago, only Leonard knew about his “dirty little secret”. Now, that number had somehow quadrupled and he felt no better about it.

Spock stepped closer still. “The knowledge that you were formerly a pornographic actor does not mar my view of you as an individual in the slightest, Jim. I understand that this is an unfavorable and unfortunate set of circumstances for yourself, and I would like to offer may aid if you will accept it.”

Jim didn’t look up and remained quiet for a few agonizingly long moments as he tried to collect his thoughts. “Nyota mentioned you.” he managed to say with another heavy sigh.  

“You are acquainted with Nyota Uhura?” Spock asked.

Jim nodded. “I told her about…this, and she suggested that you would be able to help me,” he turned his head a few degrees towards Spock. “When I went out to that bar last night, I had already decided that I didn’t want your help, but,” he took a breath. “I guess now there’s no point in refusing. When are you free next, Spock?”

~~~

“Alright, Jim, here’s your discharge papers. You need a ride home?” Leonard said as he handed the small stack of documents over to Jim.

It was late in the afternoon, and after an overabundance of fretting over his friend’s well-being and perhaps one too many bags of electrolyte-infused saline, Leonard cleared him for a short medical leave that would span across the next three days. It would serve a dual purpose; to give Jim time to recoupe from everything that had happened and to give him a better opportunity to track down his mystery email-sender.

Jim took the discharge papers and declined Leonard’s offer. “No, Spock’s picking me up actually.”

“Spock? So, you decided to ask for his help after all?” Leonard asked.

Jim turned towards the door. “It was more like he overheard me and Pike talking and offered it himself, but you know. I need the help as much as I don’t like even thinking about all this.”

“Well, you better come home at some point tonight. Lord help you if I find out you went to another bar.” Leonard warned.

Jim chuckled. “You have my word, Bones. Besides, if I wanted a drink so badly, I could always dip into your stash.”

Leonard scoffed. “You don’t know where I keep my booze.”

“In the bathroom behind the stack of toilet paper under the cabinet.” Jim said matter-of-factly with his lips spread wide into a grin.

“Dammit, Jim, now I have to move it…again...”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone. I promise I am not dead. I'm going to go ahead and apologize profusely for how long it's been since my last update. My life has been pretty busy as of late and I have trouble with bouts of depression at times, which drains me of my will to write, but I promise that all is well. I've just had a lot going on with my work schedule and school and everything else that consumes my time. I will aim for not taking three months to post another chapter after this one, but for now, take some porn as part of my apology lol.

The ride to Spock’s apartment was a relatively quiet one spent reclining in the passenger seat of a hovercar. Like the rest of the Vulcan, his vehicle was in pristine condition free from any traces of dirt or clutter, which made Jim wonder what he should expect once he arrived at Spock’s dwelling. Spock came from a planet and culture much different from Jim’s own, and while he wasn’t extensively well-versed in Vulcan traditions or customs, he just hoped that he wouldn’t offend Spock in any way during his time there. Although, if Spock wasn’t already taken aback by the knowledge that the man currently seated next to him had previously played an active role in the production of pornography, then perhaps he didn’t have too much of a reason to worry.

During the entirety of their trip, Jim felt the weight of Spock’s heavy, piercing gaze on him. Every opportunity that arose for the half-Vulcan to look at Jim, he took, and it left the human feeling just as he had before while he was couped up in the hospital; self-conscious and somewhat flustered. While he was sure his outward appearance had significantly improved from then, the notion that Spock was viewing him with a profound sense of interest and even a hint of flirtation and heat in those chocolate brown eyes of his was still just as prominent. Vulcans were notoriously difficult to read, but in a sense, Jim felt that he could break through Spock’s rigid, logic-conforming exterior and see what lied beyond it.

There was something unusual about Spock, Jim noted, that caused him to stand apart from every other Vulcan he had ever seen and interacted with before. It was as though Spock was aligning himself so aggressively with Vulcan ordinances and the teachings of Surak that he was making too much of an attempt to make up for an aspect of himself that he believed to be flawed. It made Jim want to reach out to him in an effort to coax the uptight being to open up. Jim had his own reservations with his past as Julian Ryder, but a part of him felt that he could entirely ignore this former part of himself in favor of helping Spock with his own insecurities, if he had any.

It was insane to feel this way about someone he had just met, but Jim’s intuition told him he would be safe with Spock, and that he had nothing to fear by exposing what he considered to be one of the most troubling parts of himself to the other man. It felt entirely too easy to let these thoughts and emotions flow through him. If he didn’t know any better, he would say that he and Spock already had some sort of connection with one another.

When they had finally entered Spock’s apartment, Jim’s sneaking suspicion that Vulcans were nothing short of overly-organized clean freaks was confirmed. Every inch of Spock’s living space was symetrical, tidy, and almost sterile. The only “unkempt” portion Jim could see was a small selection of books laid out on a coffee table that sat directly in front of small sofa, and even they were stacked up into a neat pile. He felt it would almost be a disservice to such a well-maintained space to wear his shoes inside, so Jim pulled them off and placed them neatly by the front door.

“I will prepare some tea,” Spock stated as he turned in the direction of his kitchen. “You may ‘make yourself at home’, as humans say.”

With that, Spock disappeared, leaving Jim to make up his mind on where he should go to await his return. He caught sight of a three-dimensional chess board across the room, then walked up to it, and examined it curiously. He had never been previously taught how to play chess, but the board’s sleek, modern design captured his interest. Each piece from a queen to a pawn was so smooth and glistened under the lights. There was neither a fingerprint nor a smudge anywhere on it, and Jim wasn’t about to add any. Still, he stood there and peered down at the exceptional piece with an appreciative gaze like he was looking at a well-crafted piece of jewelry or the work of a talented artist.

“Do you play?”

Spock’s words broke through Jim’s mild daze and drew the human’s attention towards him. He was holding a small try with a unique tea kettle alongside two, clay-based cups placed on top.

“Ah, no,” Jim said while taking a few steps back from the chess board. “I don’t know how, to tell you the truth.”

Spock walked over to the sofa in his living room and carefully placed the tray with the tea down on the coffee table. Most of his belongings were distinctly Vulcan, and followed a sense of design that was foreign, but not unpleasant to Jim in the slightest. “If you wish, I can teach you after we have completed the tasks related to your issue.”

Jim took a seat on the sofa next to Spock with one cushion separating them in between. “I might be inclined to take you upon your offer, Mr.Spock.” he said with small smile. If he was being perfectly honest with himself, learning how to play chess sounded much more favorable than talking about his blackmail situation.

Spock leaned forward then grasped the tea kettle with a firm grip and poured a generous portion of tea into each cup. He then moved to hand one off to Jim, but when Jim reached up to grab it, he accidentally brushed his finger’s against Spock’s much more sensitive and telepathically receptive ones. Almost, immediately, he felt this…charge between them and his mind stalled with telling him to break the contact. For that brief moment, Spock was able to pick up on the apprehension Jim was presently feeling with the knowledge that they would soon be discussing a subject he found difficult to speak on. There was a near-indetectable amount of desire within the human as well that he yearned to know more about. It was almost completely masked by Jim’s anxiety, but it was still there.

Once Jim’s motor neurons finally began firing again, he quickly withdrew his hand, but took caution to ensure that he didn’t spill a piping hot cup of tea all over himself. “I’m sorry, Spock. I didn’t mean to do that.” he apologized.

“You have not harmed or offended me, Jim,” Spock reassured. “and I do not intend to cause you emotional discomfort by discussing information in regards to the unknown individual that is blackmailing you. As I stated previously, the knowledge that you were a former pornographic actor does not mar my perception of you nor does it cause me to think of you as inferior in any way.”

Jim glanced away for a moment to think of an appropriate response. At the same time, he lifted his cup of tea to his lips and gently blew across the surface to cool it down to a more comfortable temperature. “You said before that thanks are illogical, but regardless, thank you for that, Spock. This…isn’t exactly easy for me to talk about, as you already know. I feel…lesser of a person for having done what I did back then.”

“Why do you feel this way?” Spock inquired.

Jim took a sip of his tea. It wasn’t sweet in the slightest, but it held an earthy flavor combined with spices that he wasn’t entirely sure were native to Earth. Regardless, it was actually very palatable and pleasant. “I guess it’s because when you do…porn, you’re not having sex because you want to,” he said once he swallowed. “You have little to no relationship with the person you’re doing it with and it’s purely physical. You have to act like it’s the best sex you’ve ever had because you’re in front of a camera and really, it feels like any other job with a lot more awkwardness mixed in. I didn’t actually do it for that long, but when I did, I just felt like I was exploiting my body. I felt…dirty and afterwards, I was kind of turned off from anything sexual for a while.” It felt strangely easy to talk to Spock.

Spock sat quietly and listened until Jim was finished speaking. “You did not enjoy it because you held no emotional connection to the person you were engaging in coitus with?”

Jim let out a short laugh at Spock’s use of such proper terms and nodded. “That, and I suppose you have to see it from a human perspective. Here I am allowing someone to record me having sex with someone I met that day in exchange for a few credits. That can definitely put a damper on your self-worth depending on how you look at it. I’m not exactly a stranger to casual sex, but…at least I actually liked those people, you know?” Jim sat back and let out a soft sigh. “What value do I have to someone that’s actually worth something with my history, huh? If they ever saw those videos or even knew about my former porn gig, it might send off the wrong message and ruin what could have been a great relationship.”

Spock appeared to be in careful thought over Jim’s words. “You believe your former profession hinders your ability to find a long-term romantic partner?”

“I’d hardly call porn a profession, Spock,” Jim replied. “especially the way I did it, but I haven’t been in a relationship for a long time, and I’d be pretty hesistant to tell a potential love interest about my 'former profession’. Up until Saturday, only Bones knew about it.”

“Bones?”

“Dr.McCoy,” Jim clarified. “Bones is just a nickname. He’s been my roommate for the past couple of years. Well, it’s more like I’m a roommate to him, but he beats my last one by a long shot.”

Vulcans weren’t much on nicknames, but Spock nodded in understanding. “Was there an issue with your previous roommate?”

Jim shrugged and took another sip of his tea. “It’s a long story, but to make it shorter, my old roommate was just…weird. He never did anything to hurt me and he kept up with his fair share of the chores and whatnot, but there was something about him that just didn’t sit right with me. He did a lot of little things–unusual things that started adding up over time and they made me more and more uncomfortable, so when the time came that I could move, I did, and Bones offered me his spare room.”

Spock decided that it was best to not press the issue further, for now at least. A more human part of himself suspected that he would need to know more about this former roommate at a later time. He briefly recalled his father once mentioning his mother’s “human intuition”, and how he rarely questioned it because more often than not, those inexplicable notions actually turned out to be correct. “Would it be a proper assumption to state that you and Dr.McCoy are friends?” he asked instead.

“He’s probably one of the closest people to me right now,” Jim confirmed. “I don’t have much in the way of family, so all I really have are friends.”

“Where is your family?”

Jim shifted uncomfortably in his seat and lifted his cup to his lips in an effort to stall himself from answering the question. Like the subject of his pornography, his family was a bit of a touchy topic as well. “My…mother is in Iowa as far as I know. My biological father died the day I was born and I have a step-father, but we’ve never been on good terms. I’m on slightly better terms with my mother, but it’s still not great. I haven’t spoken to her since I left home.”

“Shortly after these events was when the pornography featuring you was produced, am I correct?”

Jim said nothing, and instead, gave a small nod of his head.

Spock then stood from the sofa and ventured over to another room to retrieve his PADD and bring it back to where he was previously. “Here,” he said as he handed the device over to Jim. “Log into your Starfleet email and I will assess what I can from the information available.”

Jim was admittedly hesistant in giving Spock access to _that_ email, not because he thought Spock held ill-intentions, but because it was just so damned _embarrassing_. Regardless, he typed in his information only to see a new response from his “fan” highlighted at the top of his feed once it loaded.

“Oh, they sent me another message.”

_Dear James,_

_I am beyond pleased to have received a response from you. I’m sure you have been made aware that I am more than capable of contacting people you are associated with, as you saw with Christopher Pike. You are fortunate I began with him, but I will not be so forgiving should you be late with another reply. As with before, you have 24 hours from receipt of this message to respond._

_Moving on, as I said in my last message, I am particularly fond of your third film, and would like for you to recreate it. I understand that you may have difficulty in finding a partner on such short notice, but I am perfectly fine with a video of only yourself. I would actually prefer it. Please recreate the circumstances seen in your third film to the best of your ability and send your completed work to me. It should be at least ten minutes in length and do not hide your face while making it. I find your face to be one of the most beautiful parts of yourself._

_I look forward to hearing from you,_

_A Fan_

Spock observed Jim’s face as the other man went from experiencing apprehension to dread. Cautiously, he moved himself a little closer to him and glanced over to his PADD. “May I read the message?”

Jim was silent as he returned Spock’s PADD, and avoided making eye contact while doing so. Having twenty-four hours to essentially film yourself masturbating and send the resulting video off to someone that was extorting you for it didn’t exactly sit well with Jim. He had told himself a long time ago that he would never take up the role of “Julian Ryder” again no matter how dire his situation could ever become. He didn’t, however, expect these ridiculous set of circumstances to occur, and unless Spock could track this guy down, he’d be sitting in front of a camera with his legs spread and trying his darndest to fake it for the sake of someone that wanted to take advantage of him. The mere thought of that left a sour taste in Jim’s mouth.

Spock read over both of the messages in less time than it took Jim to think over everything. The nature of the emails caused another surge of protectiveness to fill him, and he knew in that moment that he couldn’t allow Jim to reduce himself and grant his blackmailer’s wishes. He held no doubt in his mind that he was capable of discovering the identity of this unknown person, but given his time contraints, it would certainly be a challenge. The outcome would depend on how savvy the sender was with technology and networking systems, but even someone like Spock held a few tricks up his sleeve.

“Jim, I am aware that humans are often in need of emotional reassurance during times of stress and endevours such as this one, so I will state that the likelihood of you needing to meet this unknown individual’s request are less than one percent.” Spock said as he moved ever so slightly closer to Jim.

Jim looked up. “Less than one percent?” he asked increduously. “I’m inclined to think with a bit of pessimism at that number, Spock. I’m not saying you aren’t capable, but I like to be prepared for the worst-case scenario.”

“I will begin working on this matter immediately, and I will return with an estimate on the needed time to complete this task within one hour,” Spock reassured. “If I do not believe I will be capable of uncovering the origin of these emails or the individual’s indentity within your allotted time frame, I will inform you promptly.”

Jim gave a slow, hesistant nod. “Alright. I’ll trust you on this. What’s our 'plan B’ if that’s the case?”

Spock was silent at first as he mentally assessed the possible options that did not involve Jim meeting the sender’s requests. Truthfully, he didn’t have a backup plan, but he was already certain that regardless of his findings, he would do everything in his power to ensure that Jim would not have to submit himself to his “fan”. “I am…unsure, but I will find a logical solution should complications arise. I would not wish such an unpleasant task upon your person, and if I can find a method of temporarily appeasing the sender or delaying their threatened consequences that does not involve you doing as they asked, I will.”

With that, Spock turned to walk towards his bedroom, where his personal computer was, but before he was even halfway to his destination, Jim called out to him.

“Uh, hey.”

Spock turned back. “Yes? Do you require something?”

Jim shrugged. “No, it’s just…well, I guess I wanted to ask why you’re helping me so much. You barely know me.”

“It is the right thing to do,” Spock replied. “It is to my understanding that you were considering seeking out my assistance on Nyota Uhura’s suggestion prior to our meeting.”

“Well, yes, but you’ve already done more than enough for me to be considered a good samaritan by anyone’s standards,” Jim said while loosely crossing his arms over his chest. “Is going out of your way to help others a Vulcan thing?”

“We act logically, and given that you do not possess the knowledge necessary to trace the origins of the individual that is blackmailing you, it would only be logical for someone with a skill set akin to my own to assist you in this matter.” Spock explained. He didn’t dare entertain the thought of actually telling Jim that he felt an unexplainable compulsion to help him, especially while he was also experiencing a variety of emotions relating to the human that he was having a more difficult time sorting through with a logic-based filter.

Fortunately, Jim seemed to leave it at that. “That makes sense, I suppose. Well, thank you again, Spock. I guess I’ll be out here if you need me.”

~~~

Jim was unsure of how to conduct himself in a Vulcan’s living space without said Vulcan present. He was mildly aware of the dull sounds coming from Spock’s bedroom as he sat in front of his computer and tapped away at his screen. In this moment, Jim felt rather useless, but he was grateful for Spock’s gracious succor when he needed it most. From the moment the other had found him incapacitated and, unbeknownst to either of them at the time, drugged outside of that bar, he had been nothing short of benevolent, and his apparent drive to help Jim had a profound impact on his life in such a short duration of time. Thanks to Spock, Jim narrowly escaped the very real danger of being sexually assaulted, and now, he was potentially being saved from an immeasurable amount of emotional strain and social hardship with Spock’s aid in his blackmailing issue. Jim made a mental note to, at the very least, find a thank you card and a small gift for Spock after everything was said and done, even if he ultimately didn’t uncover the sender’s indentity.

So, Jim sat there on Spock’s sofa awaiting a response, but he knew himself well enough to know that he would soon grow bored with sitting there in relative silence with nothing to occupy his mind. Jim let out a deep, heavy sigh before looking around the room to take in his surroundings. Spock’s apartment paid homage to his homeland with most of the furniture, decor, and even a few indoor plants hailing from planet Vulcan. Jim’s gaze drifted down to the coffee table before him where he caught a glimpse of what appeared to be a photo album buried under a small stack of novels.

Jim hesitated in reaching out for the leather-bound book, but his short mental debate with himself was soon won out by his own curiosity, and as a result, he soon found himself with the album in his lap. Cautiously, he uncovered the first page, and it revealed a portrait of an adult, Vulcan male, an adult, human female, and a Vulcan child that took up the etirety of the page. Jim could only assume that these were Spock’s parents, but…

Jim’s eyebrows shot up in surprise as he realized that there was a very real possibility that Spock was half-human. Of course, he would have to ask Spock directly if he truly wanted confirmation on that theory, but perhaps flipping through more pages would reveal more information. Jim didn’t think that Vulcans were the type to marry outside of their own, especially to such an outwardly emotional species like humans, but then again, he didn’t know much about Vulcans beyond what information was considered to be publicly available or common knowledge.

The next page featured two smaller, lanscape-style portraits. The one on top was of the same human female in some sort of medical center. She was smiling brightly while closely nestling a Vulcan infant in her arms, and this photo further led Jim to believe that this woman was Spock’s biological mother, which would then subsequently make Spock half-human. The picture directly beneath this one was of the same infant as in the picture above swaddled and sleeping peacefully within its bassinet. As he continued to reveal more photographs, Jim witnessed a visual timeline of Spock’s growth from birth to a young adult. The making of photo albums in and of itself was an outdated practice, but whoever had taken the time to put it together had done a phenomenal job at showing Spock’s life in chronological order.

Time had escaped Jim’s own senses at some point as he became so engrossed in looking through the snap shots of Spock’s life that he didn’t notice when the half-Vulcan had emerged from his room and approached him with a calm, unreadable expression on his face.

“Jim?” Spock said, breaking the silence.

The sudden intrusion of another voice startled Jim into swiftly slammimg the photo album shut and setting it aside on a nearby cushion.   
“Spock!” he exclaimed almost too loudly. “Hey! I um…I’m sorry.”

Spock inclined his head ever so slightly towards him. “Why are you apologizing?”

Jim smiled sheepishly and shrugged. “I…I was looking through that photo album and…I don’t know. I don’t want you to think I was trying to snoop or something.”

Spock reached down to pick up the album in question, and opened its cover. “You observing these photographs of my family does not offend me, Jim.” he stated while flipping through the first few pages.

Jim was visibly relieved to hear Spock say that. He feared that he had overstepped his boundaries. “Oh, thank goodness. I was worried you’d be mad.”

Spock’s eyebrow rose ever so slightly. “It would be illogical to experience anger over another viewing photographs of this nature. These are primarily pictures of my family and myself. My father is the Vulcan ambassador to Earth and my mother is a human woman. She was a teacher prior to meeting my father.”

“Oh, so you’re half human then?” Jim asked tentatively.

Spock nodded. “I am. To my knowledge, I am the only hybrid of the two species in existence.”

Well, that satisfied Jim’s earlier curiosity. It also offered an explanation as to why Spock seemed to conduct himself in a way that was aggressively Vulcan. It must have been, and may still be, unfathomably difficult for him to find a harmonic balance between his own humanity and his native culture of strict, emotional control and logic. “I take it Vulcans don’t exactly marry humans all too often?”

“No,” Spock replied. “It is uncommon for Vulcans to marry outside of their own race for various reasons relating to our culture and biology. My father married my mother because it was the most logical thing to do at the time.”

Spock then paused to close the photo album and place it back down on the coffee table. From there, he took a seat on the cushion right beside Jim and folded his hands neatly in his lap. “I do not mind answering your questions about Vulcans or my family, Jim, but I believe I should inform you of the results of my efforts.”

Jim took in a deep breath and nodded as he nervously awaited Spock’s next words. “Right,” he said, his voice suddenly tense. “Were you able to find anything?”

“Unfortunately, I was unable to directly trace the individual’s indentity,” Spock began in response.

In that moment, Jim’s shoulders slumped and a wave of anxiety washed over his body. He understood that Spock was doing everything in his power to help him, but he didn’t want to accept his own harsh reality should the Vulcan fail, and as it stood, it seemed likely that failure was the unfortunate outcome he would face.

“However,” Spock continued. “I was able to locate where the emails originated. The server primarily used in these communications is local to a Starfleet dormatory, specifically, one that provides a connection to the dormatories located near the center portion of the structure. It is very plausible that the individual we are seeking out lives within or at least frequents this building.”

Those words caused a glimmer of hope to begin shining through Jim’s eyes, and he couldn’t supress an equally wishful smile from gracing his face as he looked back at Spock. “That’s better than nothing. What do we do from here?”

“Logically, I will continue putting my effort towards gathering more information,” Spock explained. “I will, however, require more time than what is being allotted to us.”

That brief moment of happiness Jim experienced waned and was replaced with trepidation. “Then…what should we do? Do you have any ideas on how to buy us more time?”

Spock nodded. “I have considered our options. Although this method would be considerably risky, I would be capable of obtaining an unrelated video file of the required duration and corrupting it so that, upon receipt, it would be incapable of properly loading whilst also presenting itself as a random error that would be extensively difficult to troubleshoot.” he suggested.

“So, I would send this corrupted video file to the guy, act as though I’m giving him what he wants, and hope that he doesn’t become suspicious of what I’m doing?” Jim asked for clarification.

“Essentially,” Spock confirmed. “I would be able to produce this file in a relatively short amount of time. I would then email it to you along with my contact information should you require further assistance. I would suggest renaming the file as you see fit and using your best judgement in your correspondences. Assuming that it is received without suspicion of deceit, I will continue to analyze the information I have available to me with the newly allotted time frame. I do, however, have a lecture to give tomorrow at eight-hundred hours and will be unable to work on this for a period of approximately two hours and fifthteen point seven two minutes from that point.”

Jim knew that he would be taking a considerable risk in doing what Spock had just suggested. Neither of them could guarantee that their ploy would even work, but as it stood, they had nothing better planned, and Jim already knew that his mental health wouldn’t be able to handle giving his sick “fan” what they actually wanted, so he agreed despite his doubts. “Alright. Send it over. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

~~~

 _[S'chn T'gai Spock <spock@instructor.starfleet.edu>_  
_Sent_  
_3:11 PM (2 hours ago)_  
_To: jamestiberiuskirk@cadet.starfleet.edu]_

_[File Attachment: JTK_Video.mov]_

_Dear Jim,_

_Attached is the corrupted video file you will require in your future reply email to the individual that refers to themselves as your “fan”. My contact information is below should you require further assistance from my person._

_Email: spock@instructor.starfleet.edu_  
_Starfleet Direct Username: Spock-of-Vulcan_

_-Spock, Professor of Interspecies Ethics_

_[James T. Kirk <jamestiberiuskirk@cadet.starfleet.edu>_  
_Sent_  
_3:15 PM (2 hours ago)_  
_To: spock@instructor.starfleet.edu]_

_Dear Spock,_

_Thank you again for all your help. I definitely owe you one. I will update you as soon as I receive a response._

_-Jim_

~~~

Given that Spock was an interspecies ethics instructor, there was a level of irony in his current internal dilemma as he sat alone in his room, with Jim’s troubling email displayed on his monitor. What were the ethical implications of viewing the pornography of the very person you were supposed to be helping–of someone that was being blackmailed and extorted with said pornography? Jim had entrusted Spock with the sensitive media under the promise that he would utilize his near expert-level knowledge of technology in an attempt to trace its origins and find the person behind the unethical and illegal activity, and he was abiding by that promise. It was troubling that he had not yet received an update from Jim in regards to his risky stratagem to deceive the blackmailer and gain more time, but he remained patient for a response. Spock found it almost frustratingly difficult conduct himself with logic as the forefront whenever Jim was concerned. He had already made a near-exhausting attempt to meditate over the various emotions he had experienced over the past twenty-four hours, and it had done little to provide him with any form of resolution.

The seconds that passed by turned into minutes, and it took exactly twenty-seven point five three for Spock to reach a final decision. With his mind made up, he reached out with a single hand and tapped on the link that contained “Julian Ryder Solo” in its URL, opting to observe Jim alone rather than in mid-coitus with a random man. The thought of the latter sent yet another jealous twinge through his body. He then watched as a new tab was opened in his browser and his screen was soon filled from corner to corner with the image of a neatly-made bed covered in an overabudance of pillows atop a gold-toned comfortor. For the first ten seconds of the fifthteen minute video, the bed was the only thing in frame, but soon enough, a nearly-nude young man entered the shot that Spock immediately recognized as being Jim, and the sight of the other man in such a state of undress caused his already accelerated heartrate to pick up speed along with a noticable increase in his respirations. Jim was visibly younger than he was now, but not by a terrible number of years. His face held a youthful glow, not unlike how Jim looked today, but beyond the attractive face lied a level of stiff uncertainty and even an air of shame.

Jim was clad in a pair of well-fitted, black boxer briefs with his upper body and legs bare to the camera. After he had settled his somewhat more lithe body comfortably onto the center of the bed, he closed his eyes and let out a soft sigh as he brought his hands up and began running them sensually along his torso. Those same hands trailed down from his chest, across the center of his lean stomach, and landed on his clothed groin where he grasped and kneaded at his growing erection through the thin fabric. Spock wasn’t able to supress the warm, green blush that crept up onto his cheeks as he watched the lewd video continue.

Without warning, Jim lifted his hips to rid himself of the last remaining piece of modesty he had, revealing his engorged, shapely cock to the camera. The heated flesh was flushed with a deep, pink color that stood out against the smooth, lightly tanned skin of Jim’s toned abdomen. Shortly after freeing himself from the confines of his boxer-briefs, Jim reached down and took ahold of his shaft with a loose fist and began pumping himself up and down at a languid pace. All the while, a string of soft, breathy moans escaped his throat through a pair of full, pink lips. Spock’s eyes followed Jim’s hand and observed as the younger man would occasionally swipe his thumb over the glans or how he would use his free hand to occasionally fondle the soft sac beneath.

Spock was well-aware of the reaction his body was having to the enticingly salacious contents of the video, but he initially refrained from partaking in the same activity the video portrayed. Masturbation was an act Vulcans seldomly engaged in, with a good portion of them never doing so at all, but with Spock only being half-Vulcan, there were times he had little choice but to satisfy the stubborn and primal urges brought on by the wayward mess of both Vulcan and human hormones circulating through his body. Granted, he had tried diligently over the years to control these desires and had spent more hours meditating over them than one should ever have to, but once in a very great while, they would get the better of him.

This was one of those times.

Spock relented and gave into himself by methodically undoing the button of his pants and pulling the zipper down to its base. From there, he lifted his hips to push both his pants and undergarments down just enough to release his straining erection to the cool air of his bedroom. There was a level of indignity within Spock at allowing himself to succumb to this illogical indulgence, but it was overpowered by the sheer eroticism of watching Jim in the midst of a carnal act that was generally meant to be kept private and only performed in solidarity. Spock unceremoniously took ahold of his dark green member and began stimulating himself with firm strokes that were slickened by his body’s natural production of its own lubricant.

As the video continued, Spock found himself aligning his pace with Jim’s, and occasionally mimicking the human’s methods of self-pleasure. Despite being alone, the Vulcan was near-silent and maintained a conscious grip on his own vocal cords lest he loose himself in the moment and spiral even further downwards into this shameful, open display of sexual desire. He noticed that the closer Jim was to climax, the more unhinged he became. Now that he was thoroughly worked up, he was beginning to behave more wantonly. Those same low, nearly inaudible moans increased in frequency, and were now obscenely loud. All the while, Jim’s lewd body was writhing where he laid, seemingly lost in his own pleasure. It was difficult to discern whether this behavior was an amplified version of reality for the sake of the camera or Jim’s true reactions to sexual stimulation, but regardless, he was absolutely breathtaking and dangerously alluring while in the throes of passion.

Spock could feel himself nearing completion, but staved off his own orgasm in favor of watching Jim experience one, and it wasn’t long before he got to satisfy that dirty curiosity. “Oh, fuck…” Jim audibly cursed as he reinforced his grip on his painfully hard, leaking shaft and began stroking himself more rapidly. “Fuck, fuck…I’m going to…I-I’m–” Jim didn’t finish that sentence, and instead, let out a particularly loud moan as thick, white stripes of semen shot out of the head of his cock and coated his stomach with the sticky evidence of his sexual climax. Mere seconds after viewing this was when Spock had also found that ecstatic release, the results of which were now painted across the dark undershirt he wore.

Spock hardly had time to recover from the post-orgasmic bliss before a notification sounded on his PADD and drew his attention away from his computer. After sanitizing his hands, Spock picked up the device and glanced down to see who was attempting to contact him at this hour.

_[0142] JTK: Hey, it’s Jim. Are you awake? It worked._


End file.
